


Memento Mori

by Mid_Tea (orphan_account)



Category: Bully (Video Games), Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Drug Use, Gen, Gun Violence, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Murder, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:13:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21940984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Mid_Tea
Summary: Jimmy, abandoned by his mother, was left with only one person to turn to for shelter. His father, Trevor Philips.Being dragged into a crime filled world and living off the grid, what can possibly go wrong?
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	1. The Fall of Jimmy Hopkins, Age 17

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in 2008. Jimmy is 17 and the North Yankton heist happened 4 years ago. Trevor Philip Industries is up and running.

Jimmy had graduated from Bullworth Academy a month ago and was staying, waiting for his mother to come back from her second cruise with yet another new husband. The storage boxes were collecting dust as he waited for her. But now, he doesn’t have to wait any longer. 

There is no reason to wait for someone who isn’t coming. 

Jimmy had found out this truth early one dreadful morning, when Dr.Crabblesnitch pulled him into his office. Crabblesnitch didn’t even take the time to acknowledge Jimmy’s presence in the room. He kept writing, doing whatever the principal felt as important work. 

“You can’t stay here anymore, Hopkins.”

Jimmy's hands shook as he tightened his fist. His nails threatened to break the skin of his palm. 

“Why!? You can't possibly get away with throwing me on the streets without my mother knowing!” Jimmy yelled. He leaned forward, as if ready to jump out of the chair and attack the man in front of him, gripping the armrest in anger..

“That’s just it, Hopkins!” Crabblesnitch stood up, getting louder than Jimmy, “Your mother isn’t coming to get you!” 

“What! What do you mean she isn’t coming?!” Jimmy's knuckles were turning white from his tight hold on the chair. 

He stared daggers straight into the principal's eyes. Dr. Crabblesnitch returned the hateful gaze, as if Jimmy had just asked the world’s dumbest and most offensive question.

“Your mother called earlier today and said that she wasn’t coming for you. You’re old enough to live on your own anyhow!”

Jimmy went silent.The air in the room seemed to get thicker as Jimmy tried to breathe. He stared wide-eyed into space as he tried to comprehend what was happening. But there was nothing for him to understand, only things for him to accept.

“Did she......say anything else?” Jimmy’s voice was barely above a whisper. Crabblesnitch pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

“Because you are a graduate student now, I can not allow you to live on campus anymore. Please collect your things and leave by tomorrow. You are dismissed.”

The air in the boy's dorm was stagnant and dense, making his already shallow breathing worse. The building only got worse as the years went by.

The graduating seniors have already left for college or whatever dead-end job they managed to get. Many of the other students returned home for the summer. Morning classes have already started too. This is the quietest the dorm has ever been.

Jimmy slowly packed away his necessities and old school books lying around. He prolonged his cleaning because he knew he had nowhere to go. He depended too much on his mother's return. He wasn’t the sentimental type but this really got to him. His mother was the most important person in his life, she was the one constantly there for him when he needed help. The other people, the ones who seemed liked they’d stay, have also left. Gary has been in Happy Volts after his un-medicated shenanigans got him in trouble again. Petey had gone home to his parents, who, after learning what Petey has been through, has stopped any form of contact with Jimmy. Petey promised to contact him once he moved out of his parents home. That was several months ago. Jimmy still remembers the last conversation he had Petey.

Petey had been helping him pack away all of his collectibles that covered the walls and floor. Petey was timidly unpinning the panties that Jimmy kept over his nightstand. A blush made its way onto his face as he held the faded pink underwear between two fingers before he threw it in the box full with other stuff from around the room.

"What exactly do you plan to do with all this stuff, Jimmy?"

"Well first off, I'm throwing away the school stuff. The last thing I want to be reminded of when I open this box in 20 years is the classes I failed. Next…” Jimmy pointed to the box Petey placed the underwear and photos of Bullworth's hotties in, “...that box is going to be filled with stuff to show my mom so that I can prove to her that she left me in a shit hole.”

Petey couldn’t help but laugh and the two started joking around about her reaction. They sat there laughing at their own stupid jokes for what seemed hours before they let the silence take over. 

Jimmy was the one to break the silence.

“To be honest ...my mom probably won’t even be mad about this stuff, she would probably just laugh with me, that is, if she decides to take her eyes off her husband and remembered that she was a mother before she was a wife…” Jimmy said under his breath and mostly to himself. Petey stayed quiet for a while before replying.

“...Even though this might not apply to everyone, but your mother did say that she would be back, right? I think that should be enough proof that she still cares about you, even if she might not show it in a nice way.”

Those words stuck with Jimmy. Repeating over and over in his head even as he said his goodbyes to Petey.

"She Still Cares About You."

‘What a load of shit.’ Jimmy thought.

Lost in his own pessimistic thoughts, Jimmy continued to clean his former dorm room.

‘What was the point in taking the time to put stuff away properly if I will just end up like that Drunk Santa?’ Jimmy thought bitterly, ‘The man didn't even get a proper funeral. What a bright future ahead for me...’

Jimmy barely noticed when a folded up piece of paper fell out of the chemistry book he kept open on his desk. Setting the book aside, he picked up the paper. It smelled of chemicals from the mainly accidental spills with his chemistry set. It was oddly green from the reaction and he probably shouldn't be touching it with his bare hands. Jimmy pushed that thought aside as he opened up the paper. 

The words on the paper were slightly smeared and faded but it was still readable. The first thing Jimmy noticed was that the handwriting was not his own. The paper read:

“Don’t be afraid to give Daddy T a visit!

273-555-0136  
130 Zancudo Ave  
Sandy Shores, San Andreas, USA”

Jimmy slowly read the words in front of him over and over again. It was as if his guardian angel had finally started looking out for him and presented him with a way out of Bullworth. That angel might have also shat on his head but it was still a gift because, at this point, nothing is worse than Bullworth.


	2. Expressway to Hell

The call Jimmy had with his father was...weird to say the least, but at least his father was happy to hear from him.

“Jimmy!? Wow my boy is still out in the world! Fuck ya I’ll come get cha! Can’t leave my boy out in the middle of nowhere!”

His father’s words rang in his ears. Quite literally, in fact. If it wasn’t for the fact that his father had been screaming over the phone Jimmy wouldn’t have been able to hear him over, what Jimmy hoped were, fireworks in the background. 

Jimmy was picked up almost immediately. Surprisingly, not by his father. This odd guy, Ron, picked him up. Jimmy thought he would be cool with this guy. He was not only his Dad’s neighbor but he worked for his Dad’s business... whatever that business was. He helped Jimmy move his boxes into the back of the pickup.

Jimmy didn’t start to hate the guy until the ride started. As they zoomed down the expressway onto the roads between open fields, Jimmy got sucked into a one-sided conversation about the many conspiracy theories Ron believed in. 

Fortunately, There is only so much that Ron was able to say about his distrust of the government, especially since the person listening wasn’t too interested in nor understood what he was saying. A few hours into the ride, the conversation stopped. The only sounds came from the radio and the surrounding area as the Pickup had no roof. Both men found the silence to be uncomfortable. They both were too used to the sounds of violence in the background of their everyday life.

“So...you’re Pops taught you to shoot a gun?” Ron asked, pretty much out of the blue, “it’s probably one of the first things you’re gonna do when we get down there, ya know.”

“I haven’t seen my dad in a long time but he let me shoot his pistol when I was really young.” Jimmy replied, remembering the few moments he’s father was present in his life. 

“Are you comfortable with it at least? You ain’t gonna be useful if you aren’t.”

“Look. Does it really matter if I can’t help my dad with his business? I’m just crashing at his place, so it shouldn’t fucking matter.” Jimmy couldn’t help but get defensive; He was being told that the last person in his family probably doesn’t give a shit about him. 

“Look kid, you don’t know the type of shit Trevor does to his loved ones, okay? He’s sensitive, so it might not matter that much with you, but if you being so yellow-bellied pisses him off, don’t say I ain’t warn ya. ” Ron said before letting the silence take over for the last hour of the ride. 

What Ron said played over and over in Jimmy’s head like a record. It made him realize that he doesn't really know anything about his father. Sure, he knows about some of the off-the-grid work he does and the type of people he hangs around, but he doesn’t know who he really is. Jimmy’s few memories of his dad are of him being a good father but with many psychotic moments involving guns, drugs, and a lot of blood money. Hell, Jimmy is surprised that his father even responded after what happened in North Yankton 4 years ago. Wasn’t that risking blowing his cover or something? Jimmy didn’t know. He didn’t know much about the world of extreme crime. His knowledge of crime was limited to what has gotten him kicked out of school and whatever the scum of Bullworth did in their freetime, like sexually assaulting high school girls.

It was at this point that Jimmy noticed his shoes were sitting in the pools of dried blood on the floor of the car. That the open roof allowed the wind to take away the strong smell of piss, semen, and...something Jimmy wasn’t familiar with.

The truck finally stopped in front of a trashy trailer home.

“And we are here!” Ron said, hopping out of the driver's seat and loudly stretching. 

Jimmy hopped out of the car and took a look around. Can’t say he was enjoying the scenery since there wasn’t much of it. Jimmy’s idea of a trailer park included more people and less coyotes. 

Before he was able to reach the stairs, Jimmy started to smell the scents from earlier. Only difference is that it wasn’t coming from the car. 

The window above the stairs was open: The lights poured onto the empty street. It was asking to be peered inside. An action that only led to instant regret. What Jimmy saw inside the trailer nearly caused him to throw up. But, he was finally able to put a name to the last scent from the car.

Decaying flesh.

On the couch laid a pants-less man who’s upper attire was similar to the Greasers at Bullworth. Half of his head had been blown off. The blood on the wall was dark and looked like it was no longer dripping. He must have been laying there for days. 

Before he could even react, the dirtiest man Jimmy has ever seen came into view. He held a meth pipe between his lips and practically blew the smoke into Jimmy’s face. A smile slowly crept onto his face. The man threw both arms up in glee at seeing the older version of a familiar face.

It was Trevor Philips, in the shit-covered flesh.

Trevors throwing his hands in the air allowed Jimmy to see what he was holding. And the thoughts of what could have happened had allowed the puke in his throat to final exit his body.

In Trevor’s right hand was a lighter, possible for the meth pipe. In his left was a gun, finger on the trigger, as if he was prepared to shoot any nosey bastard who dared to look through his window.


	3. Small Critters with Yellow Bellies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took longer. Spring semester started so I have to do a lot of reading a writing for my classes.....  
> Also the chapters are probably always gonna be short. I like reading short chapter books so my writing style adapted to it.

Trevor didn’t bother to clean up the mess Jimmy left. It bought the coyotes and rats over, the world's natural cleaners. However, the mess inside the house was becoming an issue. Jimmy was being a pussy about it and refused to enter the house with that dead body on the couch. Ron was forced to clean it since Trevor wanted to spend some “good ol’ father-son time with his boy”. 

Jimmy had no time to calm his stomach before his stuff was thrown wildly into the trailer and he was back into the passenger seat. Trevor sped down the dirt roads, a sniper rifle in between his legs.

Trevor asked excitedly about how Jimmy has been all these years. They haven’t seen each other since 1998, on Jimmy’s 7th birthday. Trevor was kicked out of the house when he gave Jimmy an automatic pistol as a present. He wasn’t allowed back in after Jimmy’s mother found out about the shooting lessons and how he used Jimmy to smuggle drugs. Trevor spent the short ride glossing over events such as that one, ignoring how serious the situations are and how he should probably spend a little longer talking about them. Jimmy was too afraid and sick to ask for explanations. His words went no further than the generic “What happened next?”‘s and “I missed you too” ‘s, just to show that he’s paying attention to his father’s words. 

It wasn’t until they made it to their destination that Jimmy started to change his words. He was confused. Why were they at a torn down building? Coyotes and rats ran from behind debris as the pickup came to a rough halt. He was even more confused when Trevor handed him the sniper.

“I’m guessing from how much of an asshole your mother is you’d never shot a real gun! Today’s the day you learn to play with the big boys!” Trevor said. Without waiting for Jimmy’s response, Trevor hopped out of the car, waving his hand for Jimmy to follow him. Jimmy got out, tightly gripping the gun to hide his nervous shaking.

Trevor led Jimmy up a flight of broken stairs and a ramp, made from the fallen roof, onto the top of the building. Up there, the view was as beautiful as it was going to get. The sun slowly rising in the distance and the lack of cars and people out gave the desert/trailer park a beautiful feel to it. It was as if this was an abandoned town and the Earth was taking its land back. The only movement were the small groups of coyotes and rats scattered around the area. 

Trevor spoke in a low voice, as if he was trying to coax a baby out of it’s sleep, “Come here boy, you're gonna know how to aim if you wanna shoot properly!”

Jimmy went over to his father, who was standing closer to the edge of the roof. Trevor went behind Jimmy and guided his arm so that he was aiming the sniper correctly. Jimmy had his finger over the trigger but Trevor had laid his own finger on top of Jimmy’s, ready to take any shots Jimmy refused. Normally, Jimmy would welcome this upgrade from the little slingshot he had. He would have been glad to be shooting a gun. That is, if his teacher wasn’t the batshit crazy fuck he called “Dad”.

“That’s it boy! Now you gotta look through the scope…”

Jimmy looked through and saw that he was aiming at a cactus. 

“ I need you to look at that broke down car, a bit to your left...there you go!”

Jimmy not only saw the abandoned car, he saw 2 coyotes who, every now and then, peeked from behind the car. 

“You see them big rat-dog looking fucks? Try and shoot one of them.” 

Jimmy wasn’t sure if it was the act of murdering something or how casually his father said that, but he was more afraid than ever. He, of course, had killed rats with his slingshot and sure he had kicked a few dogs, but this felt different. Those rats were a threat, those dogs were attacking him, but these baby coyotes were doing no harm.

He can feel the leftover bile that coated his tongue and the back of his throat, It refused to be swallowed. Trevor gripped his arms tighter as Jimmy began to shake more.

“What are you worried about? This gal got a silencer, so no one will get spooked by the shot...will the coyotes might be if ya miss…”

Jimmy could feel Trevor slowly apply pressure to his trigger finger. He wanted to look away. Away from the small coyotes who worked up the courage to come from its hiding place. Away from the babies who thought it was safe to go towards their mother. Away from the beady eyes that seem to have noticed Jimmy’s gaze through the sniper. Away from the child that asked with an innocent tilt of its head and questioning eyes, “Why are you aiming at me?”. 

And then Jimmy felt the weight on his finger push down.

Before the surviving sibling could run off, Jimmy was on his knees, retching. His body gave no more but a small pool of saliva. Trevor did nothing but made light of the situation.

“Come on Slim Jim! If you ain’t gonna let me put anything in it, don’t open your mouth that wide while on your knees!” Trevor said as he patted Jimmy’s back a bit too hard. 

A little harder would have pushed him off the ledge.


	4. Friends in Unlikely Places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School and work have been hella crazy. I'm from Chicago and people are on a wide spectrum. Some are freaking out too much and others, not enough. My college is online for the next 3 weeks but there have been no cases on campus yet. I work at an public elementary school, so Im waiting to see when they get shut down. Already been a few schools shut down since someone with Corona was in the buildings.  
> I wouldn't be surprised if my coworker, who is going on a cruise in a few weeks, comes back with Corona (really not a good time for someone who works with children to travel). 
> 
> Anyhow, maybe the city isolating me will allow me to work on this fanfic more so that I'm not uploading 1 short chapter a month lol

Jimmy lounged on the back of the pick up. His back was supported by one side while a bottle of cheap whiskey rested in his lap. He was unfazed as he watched his father throw grenades at nothing.

It took a month or so for Jimmy to get “used” to his father's antics. May have taken a few swings of whiskey every morning, but he was “used” to his father now. He saw his father the same way he saw Gary: Crazy but tolerable during certain situations. Of course, Trevor is much worse than Gary; Gary is correctable and can be contained.

Jimmy brought the bottle to his mouth but got nothing in return. He threw the bottle near the gate, not bothered to watch it shatter. He hopped off the pickup and with a wave to his father to tell him he was leaving.

As he walked down the dirt path, Jimmy mean-mugged any fucker who looked his way. The fact that no one wanted to fuck with Trevor meant they didn’t want to anger him by fucking with his boy. The day Jimmy arrived, it was so early that not even murderers and drug dealers were awake. Jimmy’s puking at the sight of a dead body was unwritten history. Despite that, it was obvious Jimmy didn’t have the guts to kill a man, but, no one had the guts to prove it. So they looked at Jimmy walking down the street like he owned the place and stared hard. 

Jimmy was glad no one tried to do anything other than stare. He knew for a fact that he would not be able to get his “King” status back. So, he opted for the Prince instead, letting his father take the role of King. No matter the scene, Jimmy still felt entitled to some sort of higher status. He felt that he was better than the average person, that he was a leader and deserved to rule over the weak. But here, Jimmy was the weak one, so he had to save face by acting stronger than he really was and, of course, stay close to his batshit crazy father.

Despite how much time Jimmy has to spend around his father in order to maintain his status, he had to keep secrets from him. Some small, like stealing a few bucks. Others, large enough to cause a war. 

The people he hung out with were risking their lives just to be in his. The only dude Jimmy hung out with that Trevor probably wouldn't kill is Cletus. Jimmy simply hung out with him to make a few bucks, honestly. He had to get something out of killing random animals for sport. 

His father kept a good distance from many in the public, called the lot of them hippies. Jimmy could not deny that the folks surrounding him were hippies, but they didn’t wield guns 24/7. It was these folk that Jimmy got his whiskey and weed from. He couldn’t risk having his father take more money from him just because he was smoking TP INC’s products, so he got it cheaper from his hippie friends. His father hated them because their products were cheaper. A good amount of locals went to them for their fix, forcing both Trevor and the Lost MC to focus more on deliveries. And since these hippies were cheaper and local, the cops didn’t feel the need to do much about them as compared to how much they harassed Trevor. 

But there was one friend that Jimmy would never admit to Trevor. For the sake of their life and his own.

Johnny Vincent.

Johnny.V had graduated in the summer, the same year that Jimmy started going to Bullworth. Jimmy heard vaguely about what Johnny.V was up to but didn’t pay attention to it, he was too busy living in the moment as the King of the school. 

“Our ol’ boss living big in Los Santos,” Peanut told him, “ He’s in his daddy’s bike gang!”

Jimmy heard “bike” and thought of bicycles, not motorbikes. Still, he didn’t question it, Johnny.V was always so obsessed with his bike so it wasn’t surprising. 

So, when he recognized Johnny.V amongst the bikers his father was harassing, he kept his shock quiet. Johnny.V was smart enough to keep from making eye contact with him too. Who knows what Trevor would do if he knew his boy was friendly with one of them bikers.

Unlike Jimmy, Johnny.V had trouble making “buddies”. He was the youngest member of the new, and still small, Lost MC chapter. With his own father finding a taste for meth, Johnny.V was left to defend himself against the drug smugglers and arm traders that are helping start the chapter. The Gangs' trust in their leader was already low because of his addictions, so, this obvious nepotism caused acts of rebellion and bullying within the gang.

With barely no experience in anything other than small crimes, Johnny.V struggled to get used to the threat of real jail time or worse, death. Despite this, he continued to stay in The Lost MC. Not for his father or because he had nowhere else to go, it was because he didn’t want to seem like a loser. He made the mistake of bragging about joining the Mc before he had actually started, now, the Greasers back at Bullworth are worshipping him as a God. He didn’t want to be seen as the world’s biggest pussy by backing out and moving back to bullworth, possibly to do honest work in one of the bike shops; The type of work he did was a teen and is only acceptable for him as a teen. 

In order to help himself adapt to the new life he refused to back out of, Johnny.V had to change up his appearance. The Greaser attire was too childish and fake for him to continue wearing; He had to look his age. He ditched the hair grease, shaved the sides of his head, and pretended that brushes and combs didn’t exist, giving him a messy mohawk. He got more piercings too. He kept the single small hoop in his left ear but now has another in the orbital and helix of his right ear. He was still called a pretty boy, even more so than before, but his tough attitude never waivered.

Without Lola there to hold him back Johnny.V was able to use all the strength from his irritable,touchy attitude for the gang. He may not have known how to shoot a gun but, boy, did he have a strong right hook and thunder thighs. He’d been lucky to have gotten in the gang when it was still fresh since many of their deals didn’t require shooting. 

He got used to the injuries and deaths he caused after a small fight against some dudes trying to swindle them out of their pay. Johnny.V got so pissed during the altercation that when he was able to pin the other man down, Johnny.V placed his foot on his throat and crushed his windpipe. This murder alone was not enough to help Johnny.V gain respect within the gang, but it did show that he could hold himself up. They trusted him a bit more and brought him along when they needed extra muscle, but they didn’t respect him. If the opportunity arises, they would leave Johnny.V to die.

Since Johnny.V refused to spend his free time getting high or bedding random women with the gang, he had a lot of time to himself. Not wanting to cause trouble, he would take off his jacket, cover his Lost MC tattoo with a basic shirt, and hope no one recognizes him in the unfamiliar areas he walked in. 

That was how he ran into Jimmy. He had been walking around the abandoned, broken down motel.   
“I’ve been practicing here since I moved here,”Jimmy told him. “ Shooting the coyotes and rats makes my father believe I know what I’m doing”.   
Johnny.V couldn’t help but laugh, “That’s the type of attitude I need!”  
But Johnny.V couldn’t get by pretending to know how to shoot a moving target, he needs to be able to pull the trigger when needed.  
For the past few weeks, Jimmy and Johnny.V have been meeting at the crack of dawn to practice their aim. But they weren’t the only ones trying to get work done early in the morning.   
As time went on both the MC and Trevor started moving around earlier and earlier, to the point that it was no longer safe for them to meet. They need a new place; Somewhere quiet and free of others.

Johnny.V had wanted to meet around noon instead today. Not for gun practice though, he said it was more serious. They had to meet a bit further out since johnny.V said they needed privacy. Jimmy and Johnny.V rendezvoused near the motel. Johnny.V seemed to have been waiting a while, his cigarette more than half gone. He didn’t complain though, he just smiled and threw the lit bud on the ground, not bothering to stomp out the heat. They didn’t have much time to talk, they didn’t want to be found together out here. Johnny.V gave Jimmy a helmet, dark enough to hide the person's face underneath, and told him to get on the back of his bike. 

Johnny.V sped off down the road, not giving anyone enough time to identify which biker he was. He drove over the highway and didn’t slow down until he was well into Davis Quartz. Jimmy did little to remember the path they took, but it soon became second nature to him as it became their meeting spot. Here, in this empty mining site, they were able to talk freely. There were no worries that Trevor would show his face and blast off Johnny.V’s. There were no worries that Bikers would show up and kidnap Jimmy and use him to control Trevor.   
There were no worries of death here.  
They were at peace.


	5. All in a Day's Work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm honestly considering orphaning this work but I kinda wanna finish it.  
> If I complete it, it's not gonna be anything I'm proud of. It feels like I'm writing a shit outline....

Within a few months, Jimmy became an essential member of TP Inc. His driving skills were a great help to Trevor, who was usually too high or drunk to drive without damaging the products. Jimmy didn’t necessarily choose to be this involved in his father’s work, what he really wanted was to get as far away as possible. But after meeting with Johnny.V and finding out this old friend was in the rival “company”, he had something to protect. One little slip up could cause Johnny.V's death and Jimmy knew he could prevent that. As long as he played along with his father’s antics and worked, he would be able to protect Johnny.V. 

Jimmy was never high or drunk enough to lose full control; Who knows what his father would do to him if he wasn’t able to stop him. Because of this he only drank the cheap, light stuff and saved the strong stuff for when he hung out with Johnny.V. Of course, Jimmy wasn’t being paid enough to pay for expensive liquor everyday. But, luckily, Johnny.V wasn't much of a drinker as Jimmy was. Johnny.V had gained a taste for meth: Like father, like son, I guess.

With only one piss poor drinker, bottles lasted longer. Especially since Jimmy didn’t want to be plastered in the middle of a quarry with a meth head. 

If he had his own car, just maybe he didn’t have to rely so much on how sober Johnny.V was. And, maybe, he’d be able to go somewhere a bit more pleasant. Move out of the Trailer, probably to the city, maybe convince Johnny.V to go with him.

But, Cletus was pocket money and Trevor took too much of Jimmy’s cut for “rent”. If Jimmy wanted to make good money, he had to work for someone else.

So he worked with his pals, the local hippies. They paid good money and let Jimmy keep the majority of it. Their work was easy too, more simple than the cop evasion he had to do when working with his father.

Too bad Trevor was on “friendly” terms with too many of the locals. 

One of the men Jimmy had sold the hippies meth had recognized him. He knew Jimmy was the crazy bastard’s untouchable son. Having this information, the druggie finally found some leverage; He was going to kick the arrogant bastard off his high horse. What the Druggie didn’t anticipate was Trevor’s reaction, that is, if he lived long enough to witness his reaction. Trevor had killed the Druggie as soon as the information left his mouth. 

Not only did he kill all the hippies he took their products. The hippies had been selling their good-ish products at a low price, allowing their poor-ass customers to continue buying from them. Trevor took these good-ish products and inflated the price.

With the free products and the new customers, Trevor Philip INC started to grow. It was quickly becoming the go-to company.

This caused problems.

As TP INC grew the Lost MC started to lose profits: their customers started buying from Trevor.

But now that Trevor had the cheap Hippies under his belt, the differences between TP and MC became noticeable and it's all people were talking about. Trevor has cheap products, he has better products, he pays good if you provide him with the products.   
He was better in every way. And they hated him for it.


	6. Forgive Me Father For I Haven’t Sinned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna try to speed run these chapters lol  
> maybe I'll come back and rewrite them.  
> Maybe someone else can pick up the story and write it well.  
> who knows.

Trevor didn’t care much for what Jimmy did in his free time, the boy started to matter less and less as the paranoia of betrayal increased. But he was still his kid, and he felt like he deserved to spend a little quality time with his own flesh and blood, no matter how irritating they were.

Trevor made no changes to his home to accommodate for Jimmy, so Jimmy had to make do with the little space they had. Unfortunately, that meant they slept in the same bed. Because of Trevor’s preference to fuck and jerk off in odd places, the bed was one of the few places that wasn’t stained in blood, cum, and whatever chemicals Trevor decides to get high off of; Anything that was on the bed came from Trevor’s own body, from the many times he would lay down without bathing.

So, if you’re gonna share a bed with someone, it’s only fair that you’d have a conversation with them too. 

“How’s your day been?” Jimmy would ask his father.   
Jimmy was smart enough not to talk to Trevor in a harsh tone. The way he talked to his father was the same way he talked to the teachers he respected, the only difference was that this wasn’t out of respect but fear. 

“Woulda been better if a dickhead didn’t pull a gun on me today. He’s gone but I wanna end whatever back alley group he came from, you coming?” Jimmy simply shook his head no. He didn’t want to give his opinion on the matter. 

Trevor didn’t care about being formal with each other and tried his best to get Jimmy riled up, but failed. The boy just wasn’t too excited about drugs and murder.   
“Makes you wonder who raised the boy.” Trevor told Ron one day.  
“No disrespect Boss, but you didn’t raise him”  
Ron was gone before Trevor could even hit him.

Jimmy shakes when he holds a gun, the way he violently coughs while smoking, how he avoids killing a person: It’s all suspicious to Trevor. Trevor tried his best to infest Jimmy’s brain but Jimmy seemed to be immune. Jimmy would never fully be like Trevor. Of course, Jimmy had gotten used to shooting, taking drugs, but not killing. The only thing Jimmy has killed has been a few animals while hunting. 

Would the boy be able to pull the trigger if Trevor was in danger?  
Jimmy was there when Trevor killed those hippies and stole their business. Not only didn’t he shoot his damn gun, Jimmy did nothing but stand there, watching in shock as they were killed.

Jimmy was nothing but a disappointment. A lost cause who couldn’t be taught nor trusted to handle a gun. It was best to put him somewhere he would be safe, well, as safe as this business can get. 

Trevor couldn’t lose such a great driver, so Jimmy had to work in a way that allowed him to drop everything to prepare a getaway or to do a few drop offs. 

He had Jimmy work with the numbers, especially for the Hippie den they just got. The boy was stupid but atleast he went and finished school. Counting came easier for him than the others who barely had a 3rd grade education.

Counting products should keep his un-trustworthy ass from holding a gun.


End file.
